Life Is Better When You're Wetter
by Wasted Greens
Summary: Carlisle likes the looks of the woman he's seated next to one evening at a bar - only, she's not a woman. A story of a transsexual nature, suited for adult audiences and themes only.


Life Is Better When You're Wetter

The first thing Carlisle notices is the black, shimmery fabric that clings perfectly to every curve of the woman's body. She sits with her back straight, the bottom of the martini glass held by long, pale fingers. Her hair is of medium length, glossy, bronze; a colour Carlisle has not seen on any human before. Carlisle did not falter in his steps when he entered the bar that night and found the woman sitting alone, looking like she wanted so badly to sigh dejectedly, like she had a story to tell.

Carlisle wanted to fuck the living daylights out of her since seeing the black dress on her body. The way it hung so beautifully was so pretty to look at that one may call it a sin. This woman was unlike any other, and for more than one reason. Carlisle sits two seats away and orders a dirty martini; the woman in the stunning dress gives him a side glance before stiffening and looking straight ahead.

Her pale, creamy skin makes Carlisle want to indulge in his greedy side, for that woman is all he wants right now. She is tall – that much is evident, with striking, angular features and small breasts that are clearly exaggerated by an incorrect bra and the black dress. She is slim with good posture, and Carlisle smiles into his martini glass as he takes a sip.

"Are you alone?" The woman's voice is talking to him, he realises, and he hides his utter satisfaction. He takes another sip and acts innocently – he ignores her, pretend like he doesn't know the woman is reaching out for him. "Excuse me? Are you alone tonight?"

Her cold hand meets his and he glances up, playing the part, jumping a little. Now that he meet's the woman's eyes and see straight on, he is almost knocked off his chair. Her large green eyes are framed by dark eyelashes and the slightest use of blue eyeliner – against her dark jade irises, she looks like a mermaid. Her long, straight nose is perfectly aligned on her face, symmetrical, with pouty scarlet lips to match. Her hair, so shiny and glossy, is cut so it frames her face perfectly.

The woman smiles at him but the eyes are full of concern. "Sorry, I wasn't aware you were talking to me. Yes, I am alone."

Hopefully, not for long. Carlisle cannot help it; he lets his eyes roam down the woman's long, pale neck, the dress is a long, jet black turtleneck which hides most of the woman's smooth expanse of skin that Carlisle wants to run his tongue along for the night. Her breasts are clearly fake, but that is the least of his concerns – everything about this woman is fake, and it is evident to him and only him. This is how Carlisle preferred his women; as men. He loved the idea that a man could dress up as a woman and go through life and fool everyone, to pretend to be someone they weren't, to wear dresses and make up and flimsy lingerie, to act feminine when they were hiding their genitalia under layers of clothes.

"Lucky me," she says with a devilish smile. "I'm Esme. Nice to meet you."

Carlisle grins at his potential conquest. "Carlisle. Likewise."

They get talking, and drinking, and laughing.

Within the hour, Carlisle and Esme are flirting madly – he's turned up the charm, needing the contact of the woman immediately. He runs one of his hands along one of Esme's covered thighs, and like a true male, her legs spread as a result. She goes pink but she is smiling coyly, and Carlisle escorts her outside. "Where are we going?" The woman asks, standing up and clutching her purse, standing to her full height. She walks remarkably well in heels, and Carlisle has to remind himself to tell Esme to leave them on while he pounds into her.

"Esme, I'm a gentleman. I'm not going to fuck you in an alleyway. We can go back to my place." He grins at her and she winks at him – the two share their royal, imperious laughs at each other before climbing into a nearby cab.

He couldn't keep his wandering hand off her thigh the entire way home, and through squinted eyes, he could make out the very visible tent in her dress. Well, that was inevitable. After making their way up to Carlisle's apartment via an elevator clogged with sexual charge, he finally thrust his key into the door, twirled tonight's lover inside, and locked it behind him.

The woman's lips on his made him melt into her touch, and he found his fingers knotting into her bronze glossy locks as hers clutched at his face. Carlisle made sure to grope her breasts that she had clearly spent a lot of money did, and Esme noticed the gesture and smiled against his lips in appreciation. Each tongue held a faint trace of olive, and both of them fought the urge to break away from the searing, passionate kiss. Esme wrapped a leg around Carlisle's taut hip, granting the man access to let his fingers slide along the covered inner thigh, his fingers tracing up and down as he tilted his head, giving Esme more needed entrance for their tongues to dance together.

"If that's how you kiss, I can't wait to feel how you fuck," she says sweetly, as he holds her close and flips the switch for his bedroom light, and pulls her down onto his large bed with a mattress large enough for the two of them to play. Carlisle is on top as the woman has her legs spread for him to nestle safely into, and so, Carlisle makes his way down her thin, perfect body. He crawls to the bottom as Esme giggles at him, an obvious action as an effect from the alcohol. He pushes her dress up and learns that she wears black stocking that reach the top of her thighs.

"Somebody was expecting company tonight," he tells her, and she nods, barely able to keep herself from exploding all over the place. His fingers are heaven as they slowly caress every inch of her legs, and he pulls the tights down, revealing smooth, hairless legs. "Oh fuck," one hand of Carlisle's goes to the hard on pressed in his pants, and Esme grins – she loves being hairless like this, almost as much as she loves the reaction from the many men she's been with who appreciate the gesture.

Carlisle kisses her inner thighs and notes Esme's large, curved hard on pressed against the lilac lacy thong, and he licks his lips, desire overcoming his senses. He runs one lone finger from top to bottom and Esme hisses and arches her back in return, needing his touch all over. Carlisle helps her out of her dress, pulling it over the jut of her narrow hip bones, over her flat stomach and her breasts, until her long arms reach up and peel it off her head and neck, freeing her. She lies beneath the blonde haired God with a bright smile and in nothing but heels and lilac lingerie.

He unclasps her bra with one hand – both are surprised at this but neither says anything – and Carlisle places one of Esme's large pink nipples in his mouth, and sucks on it while his forefinger and his thumb play with the other. Her pear shaped breasts, lacking in authenticity, taste like brazil nuts, and Esme groans and runs her fingers through his hair as he sucks, licks, and circles his way around her breasts. He takes off his shirt and Esme pushes upwards, running her fingers through her mans fine chest hair and up over his shoulders, before plunging her tongue into his mouth and sinking back down with him. Had her hard on not been almost painful to deal with at the moment, she would've been content with his tongue in her mouth for the evening.

Carlisle snaps her thong off and smiles with glee. "Tell me your name, so I can scream it when I'm in you," he whispers, as Esme climbs on top and peppers her pouty lips all over his body, her free hand undoing the buttons on his pants.

"Edward," the woman whispers coolly against his skin, "my name is Edward."

Carlisle's dick is perfect, large, and dripping by the time Edward gets to it. He stills his palms flat against the sides of Carlisle's taut stomach and takes all of his cock in his hot, red-lipped mouth before his tongue sweeps along the head, the pre-cum spilling down his long, graceful neck, his tits rubbing against the bottom of Carlisle's length. The blonde haired God sucks in a breath as Edward finds a steady rhythm, wanting nothing more than the beautiful man to shoot his load down his throat, to feel the tremor in his thighs, to feel that eruption coarse through him, connecting them, binding them.

"Fuck, Edward," Carlisle did not expect such competence from a transsexual, and Edward grins cruelly against his hard length. Carlisle does not miss one of Edward's hands disappear, and he can only assume that Edward is servicing himself simultaneously. Edward palms himself before his hand rakes up his own body, and he squeezes on one of his fine crafted nipples, letting Carlisle see this display. This results in Carlisle letting Edward's name fall from his lips as he bucks his hips once, twice, and proceeds to spill himself into Edward's mouth.

Carlisle reaches across and grabs a condom as Edward cleans himself up, the taste of Carlisle lingering on his tongue. Both are satisfied, but have so much left to give. So, Carlisle pulls his lady boy up to him, and lets him mouth assault his, tasting himself and groaning into Edward's mouth, circling his breasts with each hand as Edward's own hands rest on Carlisle's nipples, playing with them, arousing him further. He is instantly hard again, and he whispers into his woman's ear that now is the time to bend over on all fours.

The blonde haired God takes a deep breath and rolls the condom over his hard length, and sweeps Edward's long bronze hair over one shoulder, before shoving his finger into Edward's mouth to lubricate him. "You look so goddamn sexy in black, Esme," the name is almost forgotten by both. "Not to mention your breasts. If I didn't know any better, I would have passed you off as a woman." Edward hums in glee against Carlisle's finger, his tongue swirling and pulling on it, taking whatever the blonde man has on offer with greed and happiness. Two more fingers are placed in his hot little mouth as Carlisle proceeds to talk dirty to him, up to the point where he even rocks his hips against Edward's blemish-free ass, almost giving in.

Thankfully, Carlisle was not that much of an asshole...pardon the pun. "Ready, baby?" Carlisle asks. Edward groans in response, feeling like he's waited a lifetime for Carlisle to be warm and wet inside of him.

He thrusts all three fingers inside his tight, waiting core, and Edward howls as he begins to build a rhythm, hitting his spot over and over. "We don't want to rush things, Edward," he whispers into his hair, sexily licking the back of his neck before grasping onto his bronze locks to steady himself. Carlisle pumps him over and over and even occasionally lets go of his long hair to assault his glorious tits or to even stroke Edward's thick length.

"I need you...so...bad," Edward trembles, as Carlisle thrusts his fingers out and slowly pushes inside.

"Relax," Carlisle says, reaching up and fondling his breasts. After thirty seconds, Carlisle pushes his fingers into Edward's hot little mouth and flips him over. Carlisle gives his lady boy, his fucking, hot as sex lady boy, one lingering, sultry kiss before slowly easing himself into Edward's hole. "Baby, you're so tight," he groans, and Edward knows it's the best thing he's ever heard.

Carlisle pushes himself in and out a few more times, testing the waters, and when Edward's voice breaks on the seventh thrust, Carlisle gets enough lubrication to fuck him hard and fast. Their eyes never leave each other, their gaze penetrating. Edward wants to close his on occasion but he finds he is hypnotised by the man in the bar, the man who once wore a fine suit and drank a dirty martini, the man who he's wanted so badly to fuck. A few hours later with a few laughs, meaningless flirty banter, and here is where they both are.

Carlisle holds onto the side of Edward's narrow hip as he pushes himself in and out of his core, the two of them grunting and groaning and moaning and calling each other's names. Tears gather in Edward's eyes which make his jade stones appear glassy and fragile, but everything beneath his face is strong and capable, no signs of falling apart on the mighty fine blonde God.

Carlisle strokes and pumps Edward's wet cock, glistening with pre-cum, and their orgasms steadily increase together from the shallow pits of each man's stomachs, their grunts and the calling of each other's names almost too much to bear. When they both come, it feels like they have poured their souls and hearts into it, a feeling neither one of them has ever felt before.

Carlisle's head lays between Edward's breasts, both of them basking in a post-coital glow, the smiles on their faces inevitable. Edward looks stunning, even from this point of view, his strangely feminine vibe really shining through. He runs his fingers through Carlisle's blonde locks, and thanks God for making him see that life is so much better as a transsexual.


End file.
